Highlander's Caress: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 2)

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Highlander's Caress: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 2) Page 14

by Joanne Wadsworth


  “I’ll get these dirtied clothes of yours washed and on the line.” Grandma scooped up the pile of clothing and disappeared out the door with it.

  She crossed to the window and pressed her hands to the windowsill. The morning sunshine streamed in and flickered over her. At least the storm had now fully passed. She embraced the warmth of this new day, her relief at being here with her most beloved kin, flowing through her. All she’d ever learnt of her skill had been at Grandma’s hand. Aye, the two of them held the same skill and during her youth, Grandma had taught her all she’d ever needed to learn in order to wield her ability wisely.

  “Come, my dear.” Grandma peered around the corner in her blue woolen kirtle, one hand on the doorway. “A meal awaits us all.”

  “Coming.” She joined her grandparents in the main room and sat at the table near the blazing fire while Grandpa poured warm apple cider into a goblet and passed it to her.

  “I’ll comb your hair. You’ve gotten it into an awful mess.” Grandma scooped the comb from the kitchen bench and standing at her back, gently worked her knotted plait loose. “Tell me how you’ve ended up this way. I’m sure ’twill be an interesting tale.”

  “I’m running from my handfast husband.” She sipped the sweet cider.

  “Pardon?” Grandma jerked on her hair. “Oh, so sorry, my dear. You surprised me is all. Are you saying you’ve found your soul bound mate?”

  “She better have if she’s now wed.” Grandpa leaned over the table, cut a slice from the loaf of bread and slathered it in Grandma’s delicious raspberry jam before setting it on a plate before her. “We Mathesons certainly dinnae wed those who arenae meant to be ours, that is unless we’re certain we are without our chosen one.”

  “I can only say he’s my husband since I’ve given him my word to keep all his secrets safe. He has quite a few I’m afraid.” She didn’t doubt that like Ethan, her grandparents too would soon guess that any man she wed must surely hold fae blood. Never would she have wed another over waiting for her chosen one.

  “Then we’ll presume him to be of fae blood even though you cannae say so.” Grandpa dropped into his corner rocking chair, one he’d made himself from a tree he’d felled last winter. Never had she seen another chair like it, the base made of two thick, half-moon shaped wedges attached to the legs. Back and forth, he rocked, his immensely curious gaze locked on her. “Tell us all about your husband and why he isnae here with you right now.”

  “His name is Duncan MacKenzie and he’s the second-born son of the Chief of MacKenzie.”

  “You have a MacKenzie for a mate?” Grandpa coughed. “You’re certain?”

  “I’m certain.”

  “Oh, how interesting.” Beaming, Grandma divided her hair into sections then brushed with long, gentle strokes, one foot tapping merrily away at the floor. “Even though our Matheson clan have been at war with the MacKenzies for a very long time, there have still been the odd marriages that have taken place between us over the centuries, that is whenever peace prevailed. How has your Duncan come to hold fae blood, my dear? Through his father or mother?”

  “I cannae say.” She gave them both a pointed look. “Which will likely be the answer to every question you’re going to ask me regarding him.”

  “Then what can you share?”

  “He’s loyal, protective, and has already stolen my heart, although last eve I was forced to run away from him.”

  “Start at the beginning, and tell us all that you can.” Grandma notched one brow up, her compelling tone rising to the same sweetly hypnotic tone her own usually did. “I insist, and you know how I like to get my own way.”

  “Aye, just as I do.” With Grandma’s compelling command ringing strongly in her ears, Ella began. “Well, so you might understand the turn of events properly. These past few weeks Gavin MacDonald has been causing mayhem, even snuck onto Duncan’s land and slaughtered his cattle, as well as set fire to a couple of longhouses at Inverarish, the village under Duncan’s care. Ethan is currently with Gavin, has been attempting to halt his devious strikes only he’s had no luck. Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to catch up to them both. I even managed to do so a few days ago, as well as to successfully compel Gavin and demand he return to Dunscaith. Now, I’m to meet Gavin and Ethan there and when I do, I intend on compelling Gavin further as well as speaking to the Chief of MacDonald so I might ensure all is made right. This warring between the clans must stop.”

  “Gavin has been on a destructive path these past few months.” Grandpa leaned forward in his rocking chair, elbows braced to his knees. “This last spring, he even stormed though Kinloch and demanded additional rents be paid, said he did so at his chief’s bidding although ’twas naught but a lie.” He waved a hand in a rolling motion. “Continue on. What’s caused you to leave your husband behind?”

  “Duncan fears for my safety, wishes only to send me back to Ardan House and have me locked away, yet ’tis I who must make certain Gavin’s attacks are halted, no’ him. The last thing I wish to do, is to bring even further harm down upon Duncan’s head.”

  “Och, I see your predicament.” Frowning, Grandpa rose and paced the room, his booted feet scuffing the fresh rushes Grandma always scattered about the floors.

  “I take it you compelled Duncan in order to sneak away from him?” Grandma patted her shoulder from behind.

  “Aye, he left me with no choice.”

  “There are choices aplenty now.” Grandpa braced his hands on his hips as he halted in front of her. “Your grandma and I will travel with you to Dunscaith and aid you in altering Gavin’s course, as well as speak to the MacDonald. There is no need for you to tackle this mission alone, no’ when you now have us. ’Twill be far easier to see things made right with two compellers at hand.”

  “’Twill also take us no time at all to sail to Dunscaith.” Grandma set her brush down. “We’ll leave after you’ve had some time to rest, Ella. You’re clearly exhausted and have been walking right through the night.”

  “I fear taking the waterways and encountering Duncan. My compelling command willnae halt him forever. ’Twould be best if we rode to Dunscaith.”

  “Then we’ll ride, although we’ll need horses if we’re to do so.” Grandma eyed Grandpa. “We can fetch three mounts from Gregor’s stables while Ella rests.”

  “Agreed. That willnae take us long.”

  “Then ’tis all sorted.” Grandma grasped Ella’s hands and tugged her from her chair. Hands on her shoulders, she nudged her down the short hallway toward the spare chamber next to theirs, the room one she’d always used when staying with them.

  At the chamber doorway, she blew her grandparents a kiss. Aye, together, they’d sort this out. She had no doubt that they would.

  * * * *

  High in the craggy hills leading inland, Duncan crouched along a stony trail with Ivor beside him. The ground was soft underfoot, even more so after the squall of yesterday. He touched Ella’s booted footprints he’d been following since dawn. Here, the odd clump of loose dirt and gravel had skittered from the pathway down the cliff side and into the corrie below, one strewn with sand and stones.

  Last eve, after he and Ivor had found no trace of her passing along the coastline, they’d returned to the cliff where his men had made camp following Hamish’s unsuccessful search as well. After a short rest, he’d set out with Ivor to search farther inland. Just the two of them since the last thing he needed was to have all forty of his men tramping across enemy soil and alerting the MacDonald of their arrival on his land. All stealth at present was needed.

  Teeth gritted, he studied Ella’s tracks deeper. She’d done well to disguise her passage where possible, doubling back in certain places and taking advantage of the streams to conceal her footprints wherever possible. Yet she couldn’t hide her final destination. Dunscaith Castle. Even when he’d lost her prints here and there, he’d soon found them again. “We need to catch up to her now.”

  “Aye, she moves with a fa
ster pace, her footprint slightly deeper.” Ivor fingered the mark then pushed to his feet.

  Hell, when he found his wayward wife, he’d bind and gag her, bundle her up in his galley and take her directly back to Ardan House where he could lock her away in his bedchamber and ensure she never escaped him again. This mission of hers was perilous, even more so now since she’d set out on her own. One misstep could certainly see her toppling over the side of a ridge and plummeting to her death and that thought, he could barely endure.

  Surveying the treacherous path ahead, he trekked on.

  As the hours passed, he left the mountainous plateau behind and cut through a narrow gorge in the hills. There, he found the spot where she’d stopped to kneel at the edge of a river for a drink, her knee prints firm in the sandy soil. Although, she hadn’t crossed the fast-flowing waters here, her prints moving on alongside the bank. He scooped water and drank, his satchel strapped to his back, Ella’s too since he’d grabbed it before leaving the temporary camp he and his men had set up at the bay.

  Back on the sodden trail, he picked up his pace, Ivor one step behind him.

  Striding through the boggy grasses, he remained alert as he scanned their surroundings. Soon, he left the marshland behind and jogged through the forest and along a leaf strewn trail. He trotted past a massive pine tree with a trunk at least three times the size of any other and stopped.

  Something about it intrigued him and he turned back. Roaming around it, he spied engraved letters scored into the bark and gently, he traced the etched markings. E & E.

  On the ground, Ella’s booted marks showed she’d stopped here as well.

  “Ella and Ethan,” he bit out to Ivor. The initials could easily stand for such. “We’re close, very close.”

  Picking up his pace, he ran until he reached a divide in the path. A white arrow painted on the surface of a rock pointed straight ahead, likely to Kinloch harbor, although ’twas the path veering to the right that held her firm print. Her grandparents lived close to the harbor. She’d said they resided only a day’s ride from Dunscaith. That would make this spot as being about right.

  He took the trail she had, the midday sunshine streaming through the canopy overhead and flecking golden rays over the path holding thick scrub either side and snaking tree roots. Birds twittered from high in their nests, their chirps echoing through the woods in a high-pitched chorus.

  Onward, he stormed then halted as the forest suddenly gave way to a small clearing dotted with yellow flowers and thick clumps of grass. Smoke curled into the air from a cottage with a thatched rooftop while clothes fluttered on a rope hung between two elm trees.

  Amongst those clothes a very familiar pair of navy breeches and a brown rawhide coat dried. Ella’s clothes. Relief swamped him, right along with a fierce bolt of need to find her and gather her close in his arms.

  Sword unsheathed, he snuck across the meadow toward the front door and tested the handle. It turned with ease and the door creaked open. All remained eerily quiet inside. A fire blazed along one wall near a table with two chairs and a bench tucked underneath it. Ella’s riding boots sat propped in front of the hearth and as he crouched near the table, he picked up a strand of her brown hair. Aye, very close indeed.

  In the kitchen tucked to one side of the main room, pots and utensils hung from hooks and a larder sat recessed into a darkened nook. He crept, across freshly scented rushes and past an open door leading to a bedchamber with a soft burgundy and blue patchwork quilt. No one remained within the room, the sunshine streaming through the window and dappling across the covers.

  He continued on toward the chamber door at the far end of the passageway. It remained closed, but all his instincts blared that he’d find his chosen one within that room.

  Over his shoulder, he gestured for Ivor to await him outside and to maintain a tight guard. No one would keep his wife from him a moment longer, not even Ella herself.

  Chapter 9

  The lightest creak of the floorboards outside her bedchamber door stirred Ella from her sleep. She stretched and opened her eyes. Grandma and Grandpa must have returned. Covers tossed back, she eased out of bed and straightened her forest-green skirts then popped her slippers on.

  She made the door just as it swung open and Duncan filled the frame.

  Goodness. Her jaw dropped and her mouth dried out. The renewed sight of him took her breath away, his tan leather vest studded with bits of steel stretching tight across his broad shoulders, his leather-covered legs braced wide apart. “W-what are you doing here?” He should never have been able to catch up to her this fast.

  “You. Left. Me.” He closed the door behind him, heaved her up against the wall and pressed his big body against every inch of hers. “I take it this your grandparents’ cottage?”

  “Aye, and they’ll be back soon, right after they’ve run an errand. They’re collecting mounts from the harbor village for our ride to Dunscaith. I willnae be alone in my coming mission. Grandma is a compeller and they’ve both agreed two compellers will be stronger than one. I’ll ensure Gavin is halted, as will my grandparents as well.”

  “You’re no’ going anywhere near Dunscaith. My decision at the cavern still stands.” He hauled his belt free, grasped her hands together and strapped the thick leather around her wrists before cinching it tight. “You’ll be locked away within Ardan’s walls where no harm can possibly come to you. Ivor is with me and he too will ensure that is so.”

  “Duncan, you cannae bind me in this way.”

  “I am, and I have.” From his pocket, he pulled out a wad of cloth and stuffed it in her mouth then wrapped a length of tartan around her head to keep it in place. “’Twill be I alone who deals with Gavin MacDonald. Am I understood?”

  “Nay,” she mumbled into the cloth and pushed the wad free with her tongue, his binding around her mouth not nearly as tight as he should have made it to keep it in place. “Dinnae do to me as your father did to your mother. He kept her bound and contained. I willnae allow you to keep me as your prisoner, nor beat down my spirit and control me.” Squirming for release, she lashed out and swung her leg.

  He blocked her kick with his leg, stuffed the wad of cloth back into her mouth then moved to tighten the knot at the back of her head, but suddenly stilled, his hands shaking and agony flaring across his face. “You truly believe I’m treating you just as my father so badly treated my mother?”

  She spat the wad back out and the strip slipped down to her neck. “You are treating me as if you own me, wishing only to bend me to your will. Duncan, you dinnae have your father’s devious nature, only your mother’s strong heart. What did Beth want when she learnt of your father’s true intent?”

  “To run from him.”

  “Do you wish for me to desire the same as well? To run from you.”

  “Nay, never.” Stumbling back a step, such anguish pooled in his eyes. “What am I doing?”

  “You only wish to keep me safe and I understand your need, but I am no’ a lass you can easily bend to your will. Remove my bindings.” She gentled her tone, searched his gaze and stuck her hands out toward him. “No man who truly loves his wife would ever bind her in such a way.”

  “You’re right.” Disgust laced his tone and he hauled the binding from her hands free, his hands still shaking as he shoved back and paced the room. “I’m so sorry, Ella. You deserve a far better husband than me.”

  “You are the only man I want”—she stepped in his path, halted him in place—“but most of all, I want your trust. I can see to this mission and bring Gavin’s destructive strikes to a stop. You must believe in me, have faith that I can do as I’ve said.”

  “I understand your skill is strong, but even so I still fear for your safety. You can never halt that from arising. You also ran away from me, and that I can never allow again.”

  “I agree running was no’ wise, but you truly left me with no other choice. If you promise me that you’ll never bind me in such a way again, I prom
ise to never run.” Needing him so desperately, likely as he needed her too, she worked the ties on his pants loose and freed his cock, which hardened and pushed eagerly into her hands. “Do we have an agreement?”

  “Aye, we do.” He hoisted up her skirts and thrust into her, so fast she almost lost her breath. “By the way, you forgive far too quickly.”

  “Oh my.” Filled to the brim with him, she clutched his broad shoulders, this moment so sweetly necessary. “’Tis worth forgiving quickly to ensure this kind of joining.”

  “I couldnae stand our parting.” He gripped her backside, lifted her up and dropped her back down on top of him.

  “Mmm, neither could I. Do that again.”

  “I am so fortunate to have you as mine.” Growling low in his throat, he took possession of her mouth, his kiss thrilling as he thrust his tongue between her lips and did exactly as she’d asked. He thrust into her, over and over until she moaned her pleasure.

  * * * *

  Duncan tried to pull himself back, to not take Ella so madly against the wall, only her forgiveness made his need for her roar though with such fierce intensity. As he pounded into her, he tugged the low neckline of her gown down and lifted one breast free. Head dipped, he suctioned his mouth around the hard nipple, his desire to mark and brand her with his kisses all that drove him. He tasted and devoured her and she thrashed against him, her gasps for more sending him half crazed. With his pants sliding to his knees and her bottom in his hands, he tumbled her to the floor.

  “You’re heavy, Duncan.” She squirmed underneath him. “Let me up on top.”

  “Sorry, love.” He rolled her with him as he moved onto his back and she sat up over top of him, straddled his hips and rocked him ever deeper inside her. “Aye, that’s it. Ride me and dinnae stop,” he demanded.

  “I intend to.” She gasped as she moved up and down over him, taking his shaft deep into the heavenly heart of her core. “Oh, aye, this I love.”

  “I’m going to lose my mind.”

  “Then let’s hope you lose the part that cannae deal with my need for freedom.” She arched her back as she picked up her speed.

 

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